Revolving Doors
by CWprodigy
Summary: Teddy returns after leaving for six months only to discover that nothing is how she left it. Femslash! Please read and review. Rated T for slight use of adult language and implied drug use. Set around seasons six and seven.
1. The Return

A/N: My goal is to make everyone believe in Cristina/Teddy so whoever reads this and believes, please review! Anyway, I've decided to try something new so tell what you think.

X

The first thing Teddy noticed was how emaciated she looked. Cristina had always been petit, barely a hundred pounds but this was something different, something awful. Her cheeks looked sunken, skin pulled taut over her skull. Her hips bones jutted out sharply under thin scrub pants and her arms looked spindly under constricting, long sleeves. She was built wiry like a greyhound and bore the tired look of someone who's seen too much.

Her fingers fumbled over patient files, unsure, trembling like a junkie's. The thought made Teddy's stomach churn. No, Cristina would never do that, at least… not again. Teddy's brain scanned her subconscious for memories her heart hadn't allowed her to relive. Her back hurts from the cheap hotel mattress. She realizes she's staring; gawking awkwardly in the middle of the surgical wing liked some lunatic. Code blues and useless chatter circulated around her, pumping through the place like the blood in her veins

"You have to leave. Now." A sharp voice cuts into her psyche. She looks up, stunned and maybe a bit flustered. Miranda Bailey is the last person she expected to see but that doesn't mean she isn't happy to see her. The maternal feeling Bailey seemed to exude was more than calming, it was solidifying.

Bailey glared at her, mouth pulled down into a furious scowl. "Did your time away make you deaf?" she asked, voice a quiet, furious bark. She glanced from the blonde to Cristina then back at her again. Cristina hadn't noticed, she was still searching and looking more flustered by the minute. Teddy wanted to reach out to her, embrace her and reassure her. But she had forfeited that right when she had walked out six months before over a petty argument she couldn't even remember the cause of.

Cristina huffed from her oblivious position. Her breathing was hurried, heart dancing dully behind her ribcage. She shouldn't be bothered by this so much, but she is. She rubbed her forehead while a headache bounced around like a ball between her temples. She hadn't slept in at least a week, not that it mattered anymore. With a deep sigh she found the right file, extracted the X-ray and held it up to the light.

Teddy watched as Cristina's eyes met hers. They were small, brown and bloodshot, red-rimmed with fatigue. They flashed slightly, ignited by recognition before becoming hollow once more.

A shiver clawed up Teddy's spinal cord at the raw lifelessness. Bailey watched the entire encounter, possessiveness filling her as she eloquently let a muffled "fuck" flow from her mouth.

"You need to leave," Bailey said once Cristina turned away from them, placing the file neatly back in place. The resident's back and shoulders were rigid, the only sign giving away her discomfort. The motion was too still, restlessly still.

"Maybe I should," She trailed off as Cristina retreated suddenly, like a bat out of hell, a scared animal.

Without a second thought, she followed.

X

Cristina flew down the hall, breath rapid, oxygen barely leaving her lungs before escaping her throat in deep, choking gasps. Her skin felt too small, spread tight over muscles and bones and tendons. She was desperate, mind replaying the look in her former lover's eyes but not able to decipher it. Wetness stung the corners of her eyes and she barely had the energy to stop them.

She collided with an on-call room door, hard enough to bruise her shoulders, uncaring of who she could be barging in on. An empty room greeted her, the silence draping her with an all too familiar sense of unease and dread. Rocks rolled in her stomach as she strained against her body, coughing on vomit that threatened to escape her parted lips. She recognized the signs of a panic attack when she saw them, but she refused to believe she was capable of it. She raked a hand through greasy, unwashed hair as anxiety coursed through her veins like a shot of adrenaline.

A pair of arms that weren't her own wrapped around her, feather light and warm, too familiar. She jumped then, strangled noise of surprise erupting from her exhausted frame, before pulling away, staggering into a corner. Her head hit the wall with a dizzy force that she was too proud to let show.

"Cristina." The taller woman held her palms up in a surrendering gesture and tried to calm her facial features. Cristina looked like a jittery animal, backed into a corner visibly trembling. She looked like an abused dog afraid of getting hit again, like she had been many times before. She looked like the girl that Teddy had left with a text message as a goodbye.

"No." It was said vehemently. She shook her head in fierce denial. Teddy moved to approach but Cristina held up a hand to stop her, pressing deeper in the wall, eyes turning slightly crazed.

"No."

"Cristina-

"No, no, no." She was shaking her head harder, voice thick with tears and rage. She clawed at her own skin, tension making her practically vibrate in her position. Everything was too close, the air too suffocating, and that _scent _was destroying her, ripping apart already bruised flesh and reopening scarred wounds that were best left forgotten. She should be better now, able to move past the tremors and cravings. But she was weak, Teddy had made her weak, _love _had made her weak.

"I'm sorry."

Cristina turned to her with all the righteous fury of a scorned girlfriend. Her eyes cleared, her back straightened and her head cocked to the side in utter disbelief. She was the girl Teddy once knew if only for a moment, if only in anger.

"You're sorry?" Cristina asks, voice low and cruel. Gone are the tears and denial. Anger takes its place. "You left Theodora."

Teddy cringes at her full name, a name that used to sound so beautiful from those very same lips, though the only time those lips ever said during arguments.

"I know," Teddy agrees, voice tinged with drops of shame. Her shoulders sag, voice dropping to one step above pitiful. "And I'm sorry."

Cristina snorts then, high-pitched and unapologetic, before full on laughing, high octaves stabbing the air. "And what did you think? That I was just going to…what…forgive and forget? Like we're teenagers and I caught you making out with some skanky cheerleader but oh it's okay because _I'm _the one you really love_?_" Her voice turned mocking at the end and there was no doubt in Teddy's mind that she loves every minute of it.

The Asian woman crossed her arms over her chest and waited because that's what Cristina did. She cut people to pieces with her venom-laced words then expected them to get back up and retort.

"I…no," Teddy said after gathering her bearings. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach. "I don't expect you to forgive me…yet." She's pushing it with that last part, throwing away her plan to just appease the girl she hurt so deeply.

Cristina caught it like always. She went to run a hand through her hair again but it was attacked by tremors half way through its journey. Teddy followed the motion, the unsteady shaking, as the feeling of guilt-ridden nausea ached in her intestines.

"Have you relap-" Her question is cut off by the look Cristina shoots her. Anger, disbelief, and pain swirl behind her irises like dirty laundry. It was a silencing look, a look that made a chill crawl up Teddy's spine at the unbelievable coldness found there. The look was there, and the meaning was clear.

She had lost the right to ask that long ago.

"Cristina…"

"No. You…you don't get to do that. You don't get to come back here and…just don't." Her voice was calm and calculating as every word was said with absolute clarity, but she was seething under the surface.

"I'm…"

"Leave. Now." She echoes Bailey's earlier words with an air of sad resignation. Above all she was a smart girl, and she knew Teddy wouldn't be here just to catch-up. No, Teddy was back.

"How long will you be here?" The attending was nearly out the door, bright fluorescents flooding in after her. She turned back to Cristina surprised that she was being addressed without malice, just honest curiosity.

"Forever." Just before the door closed, Cristina could swear she heard a sniffle.

X

A/N: So what do you think? Good? Bad? Please review!


	2. Country Music

A/N: Okay so here's the next chapter in quick succession. Please review and tell me what you think.

X

Country Music. She heard country music as she glanced up at the bartender behind a curtain of smoke. He met her eyes through the haze, bloated cigar dangling dangerously from his mouth. He removed it and moistened his blackened lips.

"You want another?" He gestured to her beer, golden and frothy in its clear glass. His voice was tinged with the kinda drawl that only came from growing up in the South. She considered the offer as she finished off the last of it and the sudsy taste reflected off her taste buds.

"Yeah, sure," she said, "And it's Teddy by the way."

"The name's Gabe." He moved away to prepare her drink as she glanced at her gold wristwatch and put her hair into a ponytail. She would've asked for something stronger, surely the earlier encounter with Cristiana gave her the right, but someone was meeting her and she'd rather not be drunk off her ass when that happened. A man slapped a hand on the table a few feet away from her with a startling smack and swore at the grainy TV that was playing a Seahawks game. No one took notice.

"Here ya go." He laid the drink down softly, condensation clinging to the glass and dripping down slowly to the coaster like rain against a windowpane. She took a healthy gulp, sighing in weariness.

"Rough day?" Gabe asked gently, putting out his cigar and not lighting another. He coughed then, deep and robust, then patted his chest as if he expected as much. Teddy looked up at him, forest green eyes dull with the weight of the day. She smiled ruefully.

"You don't know the half of it." He shook his head as if to agree.

Licking chapped lips, she glanced around the bar. It was a hole in the wall, smaller than Joe's and happier. Not weighed down by doctors only going there to forget with the help of liquor and the opposite sex. People were conversing between sips of beer and whiskey; the music provided was from a country station coming from static-laced speakers somewhere overhead. Men with thick arm hair asked women to dance on the impromptu dance floor. It certainly wasn't a Joe's and that, for some reason, was a comfort to the blonde.

"Teddy?" The voice contained hesitance and the smallest bit of exasperation. The blonde turned, heart pounding in nervousness as she did so, coming face to face with the woman she hadn't even spoken to in half a year.

"Arizona," she greeted with unsure eyes. "I'm glad you could come."

Arizona was holding her messenger bag close to her chest, white knuckles holding the strap in a vice grip. Her face still looked the same, round and childish, but an aching matureness about her. She glanced around then sat on a cracked leather barstool that used to be red but had faded.

"Can I get you something?" Gabe asked kindly. He smiled at her, flashing nicotine- stained teeth. She smiled back, bright and radiant before politely asking for a glass of ginger ale.

"First of all," Arizona began after taking a sip of her drink. "We need to make this quick. I told Callie that I had an emergency surgery."

"Why did you lie?" The question flew out on its own accord, no judgment just confusion lying under the surface. Arizona looked at her, blue eyes meeting green and for a second Teddy swore she saw pity in them.

"Teddy after everything…you left…you left all of us. You didn't tell me or Webber or Cristina…You just left." The pediatric surgeon played with her coaster, manicured nails picking at the edges. She refused to meet her friend's eyes.

"I understand." Teddy took another gulp of her beer and remained silent, coldness crashing over her like a bucket of ice water.

"I'm not mad Teddy, really," Arizona continued after another awkward sip. "It's just that a lot of people, our friends, are. And Cristina, she's…not the same."

Teddy looked up then, eyes red with unshed tears. She blinked them away, frustrated by her own weakness. "Cristina?" Her throat was suddenly dry, like she'd been swallowing jagged nails. She cleared it with some difficulty.

"How is she?" Her voice sounded pleading, laden with remorse and regret. Arizona looked around like she suddenly remembered they were in a public setting. When she spoke next, her voice was low and serious.

"She's not good Teddy, really not good. You left so suddenly and no one knew how to handle it, especially her. Meredith, Callie, Alex, they all tried to help her. Even Owen, Bailey, and Derek got involved at one point."

Teddy's cheeks inflamed with a shame that she blamed on the alcohol. But that didn't stop guilt from blooming in her chest like suffocating rose, thorns of memory slicing into her. She could still see Cristina's eyes, so void of emotion and her hands…

"Drugs," she said suddenly, voice raspy and sad, rubbing her temples and staring into her beverage, watching the bubbles rise to the surface then pop. "She's doing drugs again, isn't she?"

Arizona sighed, shaking her head sadly and for a moment looked as though she was about to cry. "We're pretty sure. I mean…we've never actually seen her do it and she's never outright admitted it. But the signs are there."

Teddy took a slow breath. Arizona was crying now, silent tears falling down full cheeks. The other woman knew she should've tried to offer comfort to her friend but she couldn't. She was numb; an aching numbness that seeped into her veins like a central line of horse tranquilizers. She wrapped her fingers around her glass, barely feeling the drops slide onto the calloused digits. When she looked up again, Arizona was gone.

"Gabe," She called with a hopeless voice she easily recognized as her own over the past few months. He came over with a raised eyebrow. "Give me another. And this time make it scotch."

X

Cristina extracted the keys to her apartment with long, skeletal fingers. She jostled it into the old lock with some difficulty before managing to come face to face with an empty apartment. A familiar tingly feeling of loneliness clung to her like a straight jacket as she threw her keys carelessly into the dish next to the door, the slight clang being the only sound.

Callie had moved out, not long after the shooting to live with Arizona. Funny how near death experiences could convince people they were in love. Or not in love. She thought of Owen as she padded past the living room with mechanical steps and sat heavily on a barstool in the kitchen, sore muscles protesting all the while. He was a great man, years of army life shaping him, but not being the cause of his apparent reliability. She loved him once, or at least she thought she did. But maybe what she loved was how stable he was. Which was funny because he may have been the most unstable person she's ever encountered.

Her stomached ached, not growled, _ached_ with hunger. Her fridge contained a carton of orange juice, a half bottle of vodka, and three-week old Chinese take-out. Callie had been the grocery shopper. She glanced around, accustomed to the crushing stillness before reaching the fridge and drinking orange juice from the carton. She coughed, and the orange juice sputtered down her throat, made sore from tears. It was late, 11:28 to be exact but the thought of sleep seemed almost ludicrous at that point. Her brain seemed to be able to function on black coffee and energy bars so she felt no need for actual nourishment.

The juice seemed to appease her stomach though, if only temporarily, so she placed the carton back onto the chilled shelf and exited the kitchen, not bothering to flip off the lights. It was _her_ bill after all.

Cristina entered her room. It was littered with clothes both dirty and clean, shoes, magazines, medical journals, coffee cups, and take-out cartons. She sighed, tiredness clearly apparent and stripped off her clothes. The cold weather seemed permanently permeated into her skin along with eternal goose bumps no hot shower could cure.

The resident licked her cold lips in the dark, and blindly groped for a burgundy Berkley T-shirt. She slung it on her anorexic frame, the small piece of clothing nearly reaching her knees before pushing back countless papers to pull the duvet over her. That didn't help the coldness. No, it only seemed to intensify it, that and the tremors that wracked her body, nearly pulling the thin sheets off of her in their severity.

The bed used to be a warm placed, reeking of love and sex interchangeably. It was all the same to her. What good was love when she could have sex? They weren't the same thing and not substitutes for the other. Sex could take the place of the love, but love couldn't take the place of sex. No, she wasn't an asexual creature, never had been and never would be. And she would be lying if she said there hadn't been times when she wished her string of lovers had woken up in her bed the next day. Each one was different, she didn't discriminate: Black, White, Asian, men, women, bisexuals, and lesbians. She's had all kinds of lovers, but none like a certain blonde that had weaseled in and out of her life with a blink of the eye.

Cristina stared at the ceiling, fading spots of an unidentified origin stared back at her. Her small hands wrapped around her slender frame. It was the only comfort she had left.

Teddy had left, like she had promised not to do, leaving behind photos and confused friends. Cristina wanted to hate her, hate her with every fiber of her being. But she couldn't. Because the same woman who left her was the same woman who made her soup when she was sick, taught her how to do a quadruple ventricular bypass, and rode on the back of her motorbike. God, that bike must be gathering dust by now, she thought.

Her eyes glided past the ceiling to her bedside table. She knew there, under two medical journals, pens, spare batteries, and a picture she's never shown anyone was where her stash lied.

There was no need to hide it anymore, Callie was long gone and even with her friends dropping by she would still have more than enough time to hide it. But she didn't want to see it, to be constantly reminded of her weakness, her failure. So instead she stared at the bedside table, knowing exactly what lurked beneath because that's what her life was now. A life of fear.

X

A/N: So what do you think? Did I live up to your expectations? Please Review!


	3. Tea and a Promise

**A/N: So here's the next chapter. Sorry it took awhile but I can't promise that the updates won't be sporadic but I apologize regardless. Thank you for sticking with these story. You're greatly appreciated. **

X

"Here," No response.

"It's tea." Nothing.

"You look like you need it."

Exhausted eyes gazed up at her with cool irritation while fingers noticeably clenched around a black fountain pen. Her long tendrils were coiled in a tight bun, pieces of it spilling out past sunken cheeks. She continued to stare.

Teddy stood before her awkwardly, hands jammed into the pockets of her starchy lab coat. Only Cristina could make her feel like a complete and total imbecile with just one scathing look. It was downright unnerving. The resident continued to stare at the woman before her, face poised to look bored and superior, as she silently regarded her former lover.

The attending looked tired. And…hungover? Judging by the way she squinted at the overhead lights and the slight wince that would devour her features at the slamming of a door, she certainly was and that seemed to be the case for several weeks since her arrival. A knot of pleasure coiled in Cristina's stomach, covering the previous hunger that had once resided there. She glanced from Teddy's face to the steaming cardboard cup sitting innocently in front of her. She wouldn't take it and she had a feeling that Teddy was aware of the fact just as much as she was. So what was it? A peace offering? No matter what it was she would have to say something otherwise the blonde looked as though she could stand there all day.

"No thanks," Cristina said, voice an easy blend of uncaring and cold. She used her pen to gently push the cup back to the other doctor.

Something flashed behind Teddy's eyes then, most likely disappointment. She nodded stiffly, though Cristina was already back sorting through the mounds of paper on the desk, not paying Teddy any mind. She plucked out a piece of paper from under a few folders with pure satisfaction and rose from her seat.

"One of you!" she barked at a group of interns who were waiting patiently nearby, huddled together and eager like puppies. They nearly tripped over each other and themselves trying to get to her first. When they finally arrived, they stood ramrod straight like soldiers looking to pass an inspection.

Teddy couldn't stop the small smirk of endearment from passing her lips. Even after everything, Cristina still possessed the ability terrify interns.

"Hmmm." She regarded each of them like they were sandwiches from the cafeteria and she had to choose the least terrible one. "You."

She had pointed to a girl, small and slender. Dark brown hair was spread messily over her face and her hazel eyes regarded Cristina in surprise and fear. "M-me?" She looked around nervously, afraid she had been mistaken.

Strangely enough, Cristina smiled. "Yes you." Her smile faded just as quickly as it appeared. "These scans are wrong, so either you or the lab techs are morons. Run them again."

"But I didn't run these tests." Her voice was shaking slightly and she looked as though she was going to either faint or empty the contents of her stomach right their on the over polished tile. Cristina raised an eyebrow, somehow managing to look annoyed and amused at the same time.

"I didn't mean just you. All of you are morons. Now go run the damn tests." There was something lethal in her voice, dismissive and absolutely lethal. The intern nodded jerkily, face flushing in embarrassment before running, literally _running _down the corridor.

A little smirk curled Cristina's lips before she turned back to the other interns still staring at her stupidly. "Go away." They did just that, scurrying in the opposite direction their friend had went.

"Torturing the interns again?"

Teddy looked up to see Owen walk up to Cristina, bemused expression covering the worry in his eyes. He didn't bother to acknowledge his former friend who still stood not ten feet away, still holding a rapidly cooling cup of tea. Teddy's grip tightened around it as Cristina turned to smile at him.

"It brings me joy." They grinned at each other, seemingly having a conversation with just their eyes alone.

Teddy felt like an outsider and wondered why she'd bothered to come back. Living in hotel rooms and surviving off room service, Scotch, and aspirin clearly wasn't helping her sanity.

She'd gotten a good job after she had left, with good people and good surgeries at a good hospital and even managed to pretty nice girlfriend. But that was just it. Everything away from Seattle was _good_, but not exhilarating like it was at Seattle Grace. And her girlfriend at the time simply couldn't make her feel alive like Cristina could.

"Teddy." She looked up to see her former friend, blue pools of apology focused intensely on her. Cristina was gone.

"What?" she asked sharply, surprised by the anger in her voice. He didn't look as surprised as she did; in fact he looked as though he expected more hostility.

"How are you?" His voice sounded nearly casual and honest.

"How am I? Seriously? Half the hospital stares and the other half won't even look at me. And Cristina…"

His eyes darkened suddenly, looking almost as gray as the storm clouds brewing outside at the mention of Cristina. She shut up then, looking at him carefully and realized he wasn't exactly on her side.

"We miss you Teddy." He sounded so earnest. "We really do. But you can't expect to leave and just come back and we go on like nothing happened."

"It's been a month, Owen!" She exclaimed. Things around her suddenly ceased in motion. Everyone looked at the pair in mild curiosity. The rumor mill had been decidedly dry in the past weeks and the nurses were just about starving for something to talk about. Teddy looked around, flushing in embarrassment before lowering her voice.

"It's been a month. No one is talking to me, Derek can't even look at me."

Owen seemed torn, scratching the back of his neck to show his overall discomfort. He had missed their friendship that much was certain but he seemed confused about what he wanted to do about that. And there was a part of him that was still angry with her for leaving without even telling him a thing about it. She had simply vanished.

"Look, we're all going to Derek and Meredith's house tonight to celebrate one of his surgeries. Basically everyone from the hospital is invited."

Teddy stared at him dumbly, before realization struck her. "What! No. Are you crazy?"

His eyes swam with amusement. "I'm not crazy. Trust me on this. We all miss you."

"Why Owen? Why should I should I walk into a freaking shark tank of people who don't talk to me?" Her voice was sharp with confusion, frustration leaking in like a running pen. She was tired. Tired of all the silence and alcohol and hangovers and reproachful stares. She hated it.

"Because Cristina will be there and she misses you."

X

Teddy never thought of herself as an idiot until now. Standing in front of Meredith's door and too hesitant to knock. She rubbed her clammy hands on her dark denim jeans and tried to calm herself. She could hear people talking and laughing, music blaring under the conversations. Finally she managed a feeble knock, almost hoping no one heard. But in a few seconds, Meredith opened the door.

Her blonde hair was a scraggly mess; cheeks warm with inebriation. Her eyes shone her surprise and her mouth was poised in a thin line of uncertainty.

"Mer? Who's at the door?" It was Derek's voice, light and carefree. Teddy could practically hear his smile.

Meredith looked over her shoulder before turning back to Teddy and letting her in. The house was warm with the heat of bodies and liquor. Doctors and nurses alike were all around, huddled in different groups with wine glasses, beer bottles, and plastic cups held casually in their hands. The chatter was light, creating a pleasant hum in the air.

Teddy walked through the crowd, tugging nervously on her sleeve. Nameless faces turned to look at her with mild interest but no one made any attempt to speak to her. She was a pariah. She managed to stumble into the empty kitchen. Alcohol of all kinds was laid out on the table, some empty some not.

She poured red wine into a glass, the familiar, bitter taste cascading down her throat with ease. She took a few more sips before a familiar face came into view. Derek's eyes immediately hardened as they landed on hers, losing all jovialness in a flash. He turned away from her with a look of disgust.

She sighed, suddenly defeated, shoulders sagging as sadness twisted her stomach into painful knots. She moved from the counter racing up the stairs and opening the first door. It was a bathroom.

Cristina was there, one sleeve rolled up to her elbow and washing her hands. She looked thinner than normal, emaciated, weak. She turned to Teddy with delayed reaction, eyes glossy, chapped lips parted in a silent gasp.

This was the first time they had been alone since the on-call room all those weeks ago. When Teddy had held her if only for a fleeting moment.

She was trembling still, like an unrelenting cold had her in its grip. Tight jeans clung to her thighs while her black t-shirt looked too big. Her eyes remained cool, if not unfocused, darting to different areas of the room before meeting Teddy's eyes again.

"Are you high?" The question was asked with unrelenting clarity, though a bit rushed as if the syllables had tumbled over themselves in their rush.

Cristina looks at her with a cruel grin, then nodded slowly. "Yeah."

Guilt held Teddy in a death grip, hands automatically balling into fists. "I'm sorry." And she meant it, she was sorry, so unbelievably sorry.

Cristina laughed, high and sadistic, wiping away non-existent tears when she was finished.

"Did you honestly think this was about you?" Cristina asks with an amused bite in her voice. Her eyes glittered with renewed life, if only to torture the sad soul standing in front of her. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"I didn't do this because of you. You're not _that_ important."

In that moment all the guilt, and pain, and self-loathing transformed into anger and something more: hate. She hated her, hated her for making her feel guilty, for making her need to drink, for being so damn cocky even when admitting to doing something completely illegal. That's why she was kissing her, pushing her against the wall, picking her up and throwing her on the sink counter, pushing the back of her head into the glass of the mirror with such force that it breaks. She hated her.

Cristina moaned into Teddy's lips, clawing at her back in equal parts anger and desperation along the need to make her suffer just as much as she was. It was messy hate with bites ad scratches, need overpowering their bodies in bloody lust as fingernails and teeth broke skin with no hesitation or apology. Teddy's hands slipped down to Cristina's hips, then her ass. She tugged on the dirty strands of the black tendrils she used to wash in the shower, hands scraping against the glass of the broken mirror behind Cristina's head and being sliced in the process. It was worth it though, just to hear Cristina moan. It's not like Teddy felt it anyway. Adrenaline, hate, and lust were interchangeable as they coursed through her blood stream.

She kept pulling, clawing, biting, scratching over and over until Cristina was a whimpering bloody mess giving as good as she got. She was in the process of biting and sucking on Teddy's neck before a knock sounded on the other side of the unlocked door.

"Occupied," Cristina called, unlatching her lips from Teddy's neck. Her legs were around her waist, the heat of her body nearly overwhelming the attending. A muffled apology was the reply, then even fainter footsteps. Cristina resumed her assault.

"I really am sorry."

Cristina sighed and pulled back. Gently she placed both hands on Teddy's shoulders and stared deeply into the other woman's eyes, still darkened by lust.

"No you're not. But don't worry, you will be."

X

**A/N: So I know it's been awhile but what do you think? You didn't think Cristina was going to forgive her that quickly did you? Please review!**


	4. Let's Go To Sleep

A/N: I apologize for my update being so late. I didn't think this chapter would be so hard to write. Anyway please review, they really help.

X

In the weeks that came, the two of them fucked.

The first time it happened Cristina knocked on her door, soaked like a drenched rat, black hair plastered to her forehead. She didn't hesitate kissing Teddy, pushing her into the wall, wetting her clothing with her wet body. Clothes were shed and carnal release was found and Cristina left and Teddy had never felt worse.

It took three or four times for Teddy to realize that maybe she just liked the satisfaction of being the one who walked out.

They never fucked at work. Cristina ignored her there; working under a new attending that was even more of a bitch than the legendary Erica Hahn. Everyone hated her, well everyone but Cristina. She followed her around like a puppy, like an intern, and Teddy was disgusted by it. She had stopped going to the bar every night, much to Gabe's displeasure. The two them could talk for hours without much thought, prattling on about jobs, the Seahawks, anything really. It was something to fill the empty hours between shifts.

It was a pissing rain when she left, hot and stinging. Teddy should've gone home. But she stopped at Joe's around 3 a.m., fresh off a shift but eyes refusing to close. The place was dead, neon sign glowing obnoxiously on the outside, rain falling at a slant.

"Hey Teddy! Haven't seen you in awhile." Joe greeted, somehow jovial at the late hour. The lights were dimmed, amber liquid from the many bottles reflecting behind the faithful bartender, making him appear almost god-like. On any other occasion she would've laughed at the irony of a gay bartender equating to any religion, but dealing with death all day had left her achingly somber.

Teddy nodded at him, pulling oily dirty blonde strands into a messy ponytail as she assessed the place. Joe busied himself wiping down the bar with an old rag. Two men were conversing in the corner, drunk, dusty tones coming out muddled by the time it reached the blonde's ears.

She sat at the bar, cheap leather clinging to her wet jeans in a way that was strangely reassuring. The faux wood smelled of lemon Pledge, nauseating and reminiscent of home all at once.

"What can I get ya?" Joe asked. His eyes were glazed over, filled with sleepiness that he refused to let his smile show. She smiled back.

"Just water for now."

The glass was placed in front of her before she could truly settle herself. Condensation slid down the glass almost angrily, matching the liquid hell pouring down outside. She took a sip gratefully. The cool water was a shock to her dry throat but she continued to drink it until it was halfway empty. It was nothing like alcohol, with its cool and pure qualities. She had become far too accustomed to hard liquor, hangovers, and casual sex. It left her feeling filthier than she thought possible. The water was a good cleanser.

"How've ya been?" Joe asked, leaning casually against the bar. His forehead shone with a thin veil of perspiration, pupils dilated in camaraderie.

"Fine," she muttered, taking another sip, nimble fingers playing tiredly with the blue and red stripped straw. "How's Walter?"

The bartender smiled, rubbing thick calloused hands together to show his pleasure. A happy blushed bloomed on his neck and rose to his slightly chubby cheeks. "He's good, at home with the kids."

"Kids?" Her eyebrows raised on their own accord, surprising nearly making water dribble from her mouth. "I thought you only had one."

"We got another one, a little boy."

"Wow," she said for lack of a better word. "I had no idea."

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, the action unknowingly immature but would take some of the bite out of his next statement.

"Well, you haven't exactly been gracing this place with your presence in more than half a year."

She looked down guiltily, the water loosing the restoring qualities. "I'm-"

"Don't worry about it," Joe said dismissively, his eyes scanned the bar behind her for something. "Besides I don't think I'm the one you should be talking to."

She followed his gaze, swiveling her already sore neck, to see what he was looking for. In the very back of the bar, hidden by a hoodie and shadows sat Cristina. Teddy would recognize the tired, defeated curve of the back anywhere. She gazed at Joe uncertainly, childish embarrassment blooming in her gut. Her cheeks felt hot, heated by memories of Cristina's slick body grinding against her own in the dead of night.

"How long has she been there?"

"Since nine," Joe reported, voice dropping low, losing all jovialness. "I don't have the heart to send her away."

Teddy slid off the bar stool unsteadily, brushing wet bits of hair from her face. Her footsteps were nearly inaudible as the two men's voices reached higher octaves as their conversation took an animated turn.

She fell into the booth and looked at the Cristina. Her hair was a pitch black scraggily mess, resembling dead weeds, or strips of bike tire. Her small fists were balled on the table, bruised along the knuckles. Teddy didn't have to see her eyes to know a cold look lingered there, cold like fire, cold and lethal.

"Cristina?" She brushed a hand over Cristina's. The resident jerked back, eyes wide with fear quickly replaced by a cold fury. She leveled Teddy with a glare.

"What?" Her voice was nearly as sharp as the angles on her sunken face. Her tongue darted out sharply to lick her chapped lips. There were large goose bumps stretching across the exposed skin of her arms.

"I came to see if you were alright." That wasn't necessarily true. Teddy had no clue what had caused her to come and see about the resident, just like she had no clue what drew her to the broken vixen in the beginning of their love affair, if you could call it that.

Cristina barked a laugh, sounding mean and distraught all in the same sudden staccato bursts that cracked the stale air. The two men got up and left, leaving behind empty glasses and the smell of cheap cigars.

"You don't care about me," Cristina said airily, unknowingly tracing the bruises on her right hand with her left thumb. Teddy followed the movement closely, as if something could be drawn from it. She didn't realize she was staring until Cristina chuckled.

"You like watching me." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Teddy confirmed, loathing how weak and brittle her voice came out, how vulnerable she sounded.

Cristina smirked, nowhere near genuine; eyes still dead pools of mud.

"So when are you gonna stop?" Teddy asked with a faux air of nonchalance. Her confidence was a bluff but she was sick of playing right into the resident's hands for so long. She was singlehandedly letting the woman she loved tear her into pieces, fake smirk on her face as she did so.

Cristina's smirk faded but then again it was never really there. She leveled Teddy with a bored stare, feigning innocence.

"What are you talking-"

"Cut the shit Cristina," Teddy growled out, frustration making a vein in her neck bulge angrily. "You're killing yourself. Everyone knows what you're doing. How long do you think it would take to get back to the chief? Richard would have no choice but to fire you."

Cristina looked away, off to the side like a child who had just been scolded. Teddy felt shame well inside her, along with a nearly overwhelming feeling of guilt. It was a feeling she knew all too well, thick and sickening like cough syrup down the throat.

"Cristina."

"No." She looked up at Teddy then, whites of her eyes made red by the liquid proof of her brokenness. "No."

They shared a look of painful understanding.

"I'm tired," Cristina whispered gravelly, blinking back stinging tears. They both were. Tired of fighting, of fucking, of alcohol, of sleepless nights and lonely days.

"I'm tired too. But I won't rest until you stop killing yourself."

They could hear Joe in background, collecting the abandoned glasses and cleaning, more for something to do than actual necessity.

The seconds ticked on, and Teddy was afraid she had overstepped and made requests too soon. Cristina still had tremors running through her body like voltage, still bore the look of a neglected child. Seconds tumbled into minutes. Thunder clapped outside. Joe swore as a glass shattered on the floor. Cristina offered a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"Then let's go to sleep."

X

A/N: Sorry it's been so long. The next chapter should be up soon, let me know what you think. Please Review!


	5. The Apartment

X

Cristina decided to chalk up the fumbling of her stiff fingers to the cold temperature and the relentless old lock. Teddy loomed behind her, so close she could feel her warmth, like a mother hen. The walk to her apartment had been short, but no less awkward with attempts at light conversation wedged between painful lapses of silence.

"Do you need help?" Teddy asked. Her eyes were half hooded with fatigue, back bent awkwardly from too many sleepless nights on an on-call room's cheap mattress.

"No," Cristina growled out, too agitated to bother to hide the fact. The old, disfigured lock seemed hell bent on denying her access. Her other keys on the ring hit the doorknob sharply causing hard raps to echo down the empty corridor. The ugly designs on the carpet below their feet were stained and reeked of bleach and lemon air freshener.

The door finally swung open after a bit of swearing and angry flicks of the wrists. A cool gust of wind made Teddy shiver as Cristina carelessly tossed her keys into a chipped red dish. She toed off her shoes, beaten up converse, then turned and stared, waiting.

Teddy cleared her throat and looked around, trying to mask her overall discomfort. The apartment smelled old, like a grandma's house filled with odd figurines. Not much had changed since the last time she had been there but little personal items were missing. The green afghan she remembered was gone, along with some books on the bookshelf, and some photos.

"When did Callie leave?" Teddy asked, looking anywhere but the small Asian woman who looked decidedly childlike in her mismatched zebra and tiger stripped socks.

"Not long after you."

The statement hit her like an iceberg between the shoulder blades. She inwardly winced, but allowed her face to remain an expressionless mask. She refused to let guilt overwhelm her.

"Why did you come back?" Cristina's voice was dry, emotionless, with eyes to match. Her head was cocked to the side, genuine curiosity present in her body language and facial features.

Teddy swallowed. Why had she come back? She didn't seem to have a reason anymore. At first it was like she just knew she couldn't function away from Seattle Grace, away from her. She hadn't missed her; she had _ached_ for her. For her body, her fiery cold spirit, the secrets behind those molten eyes that only she and a select few could keep. But she wouldn't tell her that. She had already returned, wings clipped and tail between her legs, sobbing mournfully. Reliving it almost seemed cruel.

"I don't know," she said finally, running her tongue over her teeth. "I just couldn't live without you I guess."

Cristina didn't seem shocked by the admission, or even surprised. Her body language didn't change, nor did her face show any sign of pleasure from the statement. She was just staring at her, eyes empty yet open, mouth a blank line.

"Then why did you leave?"

The question she had feared finally surpassed her lover's beautiful lips, innocent and sad. She swallowed, closing her eyes and moistening her dry lips.

"You should sit down," she whispered, eyes still closed. She heard Cristina sweep past her, got a whiff of her unique scent, cinnamon and something else. Teddy opened her eyes to see her on the couch, knees pulled up to her chest, hair nearly reaching past her shoulders. She absentmindedly wondered when was the last time she got it cut.

She sat on the other end of the couch, afraid of crowding the decidedly jumpy woman.

"We were complicated to begin with," Teddy began, rubbing her itchy eyes. She cleared her throat before continuing. "Do you remember how we got together in the first place?"

Cristina remembered of course. It had been a dirty fuck in the men's bathroom at a dive bar because that one was closer than the women's. Teddy had shoved her tongue down her throat, tasting the slight burn of tequila Cristina had swallowed. They had been pushed against the door, the light bulb long broken, but still smelling the acrid stench of piss and vomit. Cristina had woken up the next day, damn near concussed, to the sound of Teddy retching in toilet.

"I remember."

Teddy nodded, still not looking at her.

"It was…different, we were different." She gave a joyless laugh. "We _are _different. It took us a long time to simply get comfortable with each other and even then…"

"What's your point?" Cristina was anything if impatient, voice slicing the thick air like a blade. She looked Teddy head on, brown eyes searching for the meaning behind the other woman's words.

Teddy sighed, licking her lips. "I was scared."

"What?"

"I was scared," Teddy repeated, "The shooting had just happened, everyone was mourning, everything was so screwed up. You were barely holding on…"

"So you decided to leave?" Cristina asked, voice tinged with disbelieving anger. Her eyes stung, her fists balled in her lap. Just outside, they could hear a door slam, then hasty footsteps, the ding of the elevator, then nothing at all.

"It was more than that," Teddy said, looking anywhere but the resident. "You needed time to heal and so did I. We weren't good for each other then. You had gotten into drugs and I…. I didn't know how to save you."

They're silent several moments, contemplating each other's words. The hum of the AC rung in both their ears.

"I'm sor-"

"No," Cristina said, stopping her with a shake of the head. "It wasn't fair to you. We were both reeling. I almost died. You had to deal with that and so did I. you're right, we weren't good for each other."

They sat in silence for several moments, chill settling around them like a disconcerting blanket. Cristina began to tremble but whether it was from emotion or coldness, Teddy couldn't tell. Hesitantly she moved closer, inch by slow inch. Her throat felt raw, like she'd just swallowed nails. She coughed. Cristina flinched as an arm was placed around her shoulders, not pulling, just there. She stared into nothingness, vision blurring along the edges, fists uncurling.

"I'm tired," she said finally, wriggling but not shying away from Teddy's slight embrace. She rubbed her bruised knuckles and Teddy watched the action, wondering how they got that way but feeling it would be futile to ask.

"I punched some lockers," Cristina said, as if she knew exactly what Teddy was thinking. She glanced at her sideways, eyes slitting like a cat's.

"Oh," was all the other woman could say. She didn't need to ask why, she already knew. "Let's get you to bed."

On any normal day, Cristina would smirk and make some perverted remark about sex. Yet, as the rain poured down outside, harder and more ragged, she simply didn't have the energy.

She nodded at Teddy, rose unsteadily from the couch, swaying under the effects of vertigo. The blonde steadied her with a firm hand on her shoulder, and a tender spark in her eyes.

They padded silently to the bedroom. Cristina was unabashed by the state of it, merely brushing aside papers and clothes. She sat on her bed and looked up at Teddy, waiting.

The attending swooped down, catching the other woman's lips in a slow, warm kiss. Her warm calloused fingers brushed against the hem of Cristina's top, and with the smallest nod of permission, she pulled it up and off. She did the same with the damp jeans until Cristina was shivering in her bra and panties. The porcelain skin was dotted with Goose bumps but she didn't cover herself, just stared up at Teddy with open, trusting eyes.

She brought her hand to Cristina's cheek, running a thumb over the full lips before dropping to the ground and groping for a clean shirt. She pulled it over the resident's head, smoothing the black tendrils with gentle strokes of her fingertips.

"Come on," Teddy murmured, pushing back the duvet and sheets. "We both need this." That was the truth, they needed sleep, to shut of the thoughts and emotions that seemed to drown them like tidal waves.

She obeyed, crawling slow and animalistic under the covers while Teddy flipped off the lights. Under the veil of darkness, she stumbled over hardback books, ceramic mugs, dirty clothes… A small part of her was relieved that an idiosyncrasy was still intact after everything. She crawled next to her lover, feeling the cool material of Cristina's shirt rub against her skin. She wiggled out of her shoes and jeans, leaving her barelegged and vulnerable in the darkness.

The whites of Cristina's eyes were visible between the shadows, unblinking.

"Close your eyes," Teddy whispered, feeling her own eyelids droop with exhaustion.

The rain still poured against the windows, lightning slicing the night sky, followed by the burning rumble of thunder.

Cristina nodded, allowing her eyes to close and her body to truly sink into the soft contours of the mattress. She could feel fatigue seep into her bones, like a familiar drug entering her veins. She stiffened at the thought, knowing Teddy was only a few feet away from the substance that had singlehandedly destroyed her.

"Sleep," Teddy cooed, slipping into unconsciousness, but the resident already was for the first time in months.

X

A/N: Well, this is the latest chapter. The last one should be up soon, well hopefully. Anyway, please rate and review, I wanna know what you think.


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